


At Home in the Ash

by thegirlwhoknits



Series: Steter Week 2017 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Female Stiles, Underage - Freeform, murder couple, season 1 rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhoknits/pseuds/thegirlwhoknits
Summary: "Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. Whoever did this, they killed my only family, too.”Climbing up onto the bed, she lays her head on his shoulder and moves his hand to rest over her heart. “You need a pack, right? Maybe…maybe I can be your pack, and you can be my family. I’ll help you get better, and then you can help me kill them.”





	At Home in the Ash

**Author's Note:**

> For Day One of Steter Week 2017: Season 1 Rewrite
> 
> Thanks so much to Mads and Apollonia for the last-minute beta!

Peter doesn’t know how long it takes him to regain consciousness after the fire, but when he does, he’s not alone.  His eyes won’t open, and his nose is filled with the smell of harsh disinfectant, so at first he assumes the child clinging to him and weeping is Cora, or maybe Laura. But then the girl speaks, and her voice is unfamiliar.

“They killed him,” she sobs into his shoulder. “They killed my dad, and all he was trying to do was help. _They killed my dad!”_

He instinctively wants to comfort her, to draw her in his arms the way he would a pack member. The way he would have comforted his nieces, whom he now realizes must be dead, too. But his eyes still won’t open, and his muscles refuse to even twitch. His mental scream joins her audible one as someone lifts her off him and takes her away, leaving him trapped and alone once more.

~

Stiles’ dreams are filled with fire. They don’t start that way—no, first she has to re-live the bullet hole blossoming in her father’s chest, the way he falls at her feet as his eyes go wide and blank. But then she steps over his body, opens their front door, and finds herself in front of the burning Hale house.

Someone is alive inside, she knows. Not her father, but someone almost as important. Someone she can still save, and who can help her get revenge.

~

The girl comes back a few days later. She’s calmer, but she still reeks of misery underneath the scent of the roses and carnations she’s carrying. His eyes are open now, though he still doesn’t have control of the rest of his body.  The night after he awoke he realized that his sister’s Alpha power had passed to him, and he’s started using it to heal himself. Without a pack, though, it’s still a slow, agonizing process.

“I brought you flowers to apologize for last time,” she says. “I thought they might help. I know I hate the way hospitals smell, and it must be much worse for you.”

She steps forward hesitantly, and she seems to be searching his eyes for some kind of reaction. Suddenly he realizes what she’s trying to tell him. She knows—or suspects—that he’s a werewolf. His brain floods with panic, and his eyes dart around the room. Have the Argents sent a fourteen-year-old girl to finish what they started?

He wouldn’t put it past them.

But she just sets the flowers down and moves to touch his cheek. Her fingers are gentle as they run over his scars, and her whisky-brown eyes brim with tears. “It’s true then,” she whispers. “It seemed so real in my dream, but I wasn’t sure. Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. Whoever did this, they killed my only family, too.”

Climbing up onto the bed, she lays her head on his shoulder and moves his hand to rest over her heart. “You need a pack, right? Maybe…maybe I can be your pack, and you can be my family. I’ll help you get better, and then you can help me kill them.”

~

Stiles tells her therapist that spending time with someone worse off than her is helping her manage her grief, so Mrs. McCall lets her come to the hospital with her whenever she’s not in school. Stiles thinks her foster mother’s just relieved to have her somewhere she can keep an eye on her. Stiles has always been a ‘handful,’ and she’s sure everyone expects her to act out more after her father’s death.

Stiles doesn’t have time for back-talk and pranks, though.  She has a purpose. So she gets along: she gets decent grades, keeps up appearances, and keeps her head down. She does her homework at Peter’s bedside every night until the nurses have done their rounds, and then she pulls out the Notebook.

The Notebook is filled with every scrap of evidence she can find about the Hale fire and her father’s murder. She shares each new piece with her packmate, watching his eyes closely for any reaction, like a game of Hot and Cold.

That’s how she learns about hunters in general, and the Argents specifically.  With blinks and twitches, he helps her sift through a mountain of folklore and misinformation about werewolves. She learns about wolfsbane and mountain ash. She has a dual lesson about Emissaries and betrayal when she mentions that Scott’s boss Deaton closed his clinic and left town the day after the fire, along with the entire Argent family.

She learns that Peter is an Alpha, when she mentions Kate Argent and his eyes flash a furious red.

When she reads him a bit of folklore about werewolves’ mates, she learns that Peter can blush.

~

Their interactions change a little after that.  Stiles’ scent starts to go warm and spicy when she cuddles up against him, but she doesn’t go further than that until he can twitch his fingers when she holds his hand, and curve the corner of his mouth when she kisses his cheek.

Frustratingly, his dick decides to wake up before he regains his speech, so he can’t voice his well-reasoned arguments about their age difference when she wiggles in his lap and smirks. She doesn’t press her advantage, of course. But by the time he can talk, three weeks of smelling her arousal and knowing she’d masturbated before visiting him have made her argument for her.

He’s never been a particularly good man, and he’s fairly sure that Stiles is too curious to have ever been really innocent.

~

On the first anniversary of the fire, Stiles curls up against him and sobs just like the day they met. This time, he’s able to curve his arms around her and whisper promises of revenge.

He’s released from the hospital three months later, having made a ‘miraculous’ recovery. Mrs. McCall tells Stiles that her selfless dedication is probably what made the difference. She sounds so proud, and Stiles feels vaguely guilty when she sneaks out the same night to visit Peter in his new apartment.

He’s covered his scars with bandages to hide how well they’re healing and to support his story about skin grafts. The first things she does after he closes the door is peel them off and run her fingers over the much-smoother skin.

“Will you show me?” she whispers.

He doesn’t ask what she means. She looks on in awe as his face transforms into its beta shift, and she climbs into his lap and licks into his mouth, tracing his fangs with her tongue.

Her hunger for him feels bottomless. Since her father’s death, Peter has become her anchor, the center of her universe. She’s self-aware enough to know it isn’t healthy, and selfish enough to know she doesn’t care. Besides, she knows it’s the same for him. They have nothing left but each other and the need for retribution. Soon the people responsible for their pain will be dead, and they’ll need each other even more.

He lets her continue to kiss him for a few more minutes, and then they get down to work.

~

It’s a fairly simple plan: kill the Argents’ accomplices in a way that will draw them back to town, and then kill Kate and her father too. Stiles has used her father’s old files and her foster father’s FBI access to track down each and every person involved.

Stiles is as enthusiastic about the plan as Peter, but she has a few ground rules: “One, we only kill the people responsible, not their families. This is revenge, not karma. And two, you don’t get to have all the fun.”

It makes sense for Peter to dispatch most of their targets in his shifted form—it’ll send a message to the Argents and avoid law-enforcement involvement at the same time. Two birds, one stone. But the dirty cop who put a target on her dad’s back, and the hunter who pulled the trigger? Peter can help her catch them, but they’re hers to kill.

She sets Deputy Haigh on fire, because she’s not above a little poetry. John Curran, local footsoldier for the Argents and expert marksman, gets dragged far out into the Preserve and used for target practice while Stiles familiarizes herself with her dad’s old Glock.

She insists on being there when Peter eviscerates Adrian Harris, too. It turns out that in addition to making her life hell in chemistry class since her dad’s death, he also provided Kate with all the info she needed to get away with killing the Hales. And dude, she studied her _ass_ off for that test he gave her a D on.

~

Two days before Stiles’ sixteenth birthday, their plan starts to bear fruit. Chris and Victoria Argent move back to Beacon Hills, drawn by the werewolf attacks. Stiles informs him, with a despairing facepalm, that her foster brother has actually started _dating_ their daughter.

Peter is more than a little uneasy about Stiles being in such close proximity to an Argent, but he forces himself not to stand guard outside her house. If they tracked him there, it would just put her in even more danger. They keep meeting at his apartment, which has been runed and warded by one of his connections in the supernatural community. Plus, he owns the building, and he’s personally vetted every tenant.

In the end, Stiles hanging out with Allison turns out to be a good thing. Stiles soon realizes that Allison’s parents haven’t told her anything about the supernatural, and it also seems that they’re unaware of Kate’s more horrendous actions. Though it’s clear that Chris suspects _something_ , judging by the lengths he’s gone to to distance his family from his sister and dad.

Victoria Argent may be a stone-cold bitch, but she’s not guilty of this, so Peter contents himself with putting her on their ‘to be watched’ list.

Stiles also gets advance warning through Allison that her Aunt Kate is coming to town.

It’s time.

~

The first half of their finale goes off flawlessly. It’s absurdly easy to lure Kate to the burnt-out Hale house, where Peter slits her throat and they set her on fire.

Unfortunately, Gerard isn’t with her, and the second half of their plan gets all fucked up by his tardiness. Stiles delivers a clean, digital copy of all their evidence to Chris Argent to stave off a war between their little pack and hunters who actually follow the code.

Chris believes them, but that means he insists on taking care of the problem himself, with a quick, efficient headshot when Gerard shows up for his daughter’s funeral.

It’s nowhere near what he deserves, and Peter fumes and sulks about it for a week. Stiles has to talk him down more than once from killing the remaining Argents out of frustration.

~

And just like that, it’s over. Stiles expects to feel…hollower. TV has led her to believe that revenge is an empty thing, but in reality she feels a prolonged sense of closure. She still misses her dad, of course. And in her weaker moments she plays the ‘would he approve’ game before shutting that train of thought down hard. When it comes down to it, she knows he’d want her to survive, and this is what she had to do to accomplish that.

Now that their vengeance is complete, Peter and Stiles have a lot of time on their hands. Peter’s working on retaking the bar exam, and Stiles still has senior year to finish up, but after that… Nothing’s stopping them from brushing the dust of Beacon Hills off their boots and starting up a real pack somewhere else. And yeah, Stiles won’t lie; when Gerard was dead, she’d wondered for a hot second if Peter would just take off without her, her usefulness over.

Peter makes it clear that he has no intention of ever letting her go.

~

“I should tell you no,” he comments as she pulls her shirt over her head. His hands come up to cup her breasts at the same time, though, so she just smirks.

“Yeah, because having sex with an extremely willing seventeen-year-old is so much worse than committing murder with one.”

Peter just growls in response and picks her up to carry her into the bedroom.

Having Peter touch her in all the places she’s been dreaming of nearly drives Stiles out of her mind. He’s so much bigger than her, so much stronger, and he smells like safety and home. She wants to mold herself around him and never let go.

When he wraps his lips around her nipple and flicks it with his tongue, she arches off the bed with a cry. Everything is so intense. Her body is flooded with fire; she can’t think. Doesn’t _want_ to think, doesn’t need to. Peter will take care of everything.

And he does. His hands are strong and big. They move her whenever he needs her to go as he nips and sucks his way from her breasts to her clit. They trace the outside of her slick pussy lips while he licks her, gently at first and then with animal growls and moans as she bucks against his mouth. Finally, he slides a thick finger inside for her to fuck herself on desperately until she comes, clenching tightly and crying out as he pinches her nipple with his other hand.

Her orgasm only makes her impossibly hungrier. Her pussy is swollen and slick, every touch sending aftershocks zapping through her. She needs him completely inside her _now_ , covering her with his weight and heat, filling the void inside her that suddenly feels so big she could cry.

“Daddy,” she whimpers. “Daddy, I need you. Need you inside me, please.” She’s dimly aware that she’s tipping her hand, completely open and vulnerable. If he didn’t know before that he’s become everything to her, he does now.

But Peter’s eyes just flash red as he moves over her, hands on either side of her shoulders, and rubs his thick, hard cock against the slickness of her pussy. “You need me to fuck you, princess? Want your daddy to come inside you, help him build a pack?”

She knows he knows she’s on the pill, but she chooses to ignore it as well in favor of the image that flashes through her mind: her belly round with his pup, Peter’s hands resting there possessively. Building a pack with him, a family they can keep safe this time.

Her legs fall open even wider as she tilts her hips up, like a flower reaching for the sun. “Please, Daddy, yes. God yes. I need you so bad, want you to come in me and make me yours.”

Peter gives a harsh groan as he reaches down and rubs his cockhead against her once, twice, before slowly sliding in. She can feel the stretch, but she’s been playing with toys ever since she first felt her pussy ache, so it doesn’t actually _hurt._ Even if it had, she can’t imagine anything more glorious than finally having the last space between her and her wolf disappear completely.

“God, Stiles, you’re so perfect,” he groans, starting to rock against her. “You’re everything I ever needed, my sweet, perfect princess.”

She’s almost crying now, with how good it feels to have him inside her. He gathers her in his arms, fitting her against him as he sits back on his heels. The angle is perfect, his cock massaging her g-spot from inside while his pelvis rubs against her clit with every deep, circling thrust. Her pussy feels like it’s on fire, and when she comes again, she melts completely.

Peter supports her weight as he keeps fucking her, and she feels so small and light in his arms. Her daddy’s got her, he’ll take care of her, never let her go… Some part of her is aware she’s saying it out loud, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Yes, princess. I’ve got you, baby girl, always,” Peter says roughly.

“It feels so good,” she sobs as he starts chasing his release, slamming his cock in her like he’s trying to get even deeper inside. She comes again when he does, grinding against him as her pussy milks everything it can from him.

She clings to him afterward, not letting him withdraw or move from on top of her, even though breathing’s a bit difficult under the hot crush of his chest.

“I love you,” she says softly, just now realizing she’s never said it before.

“I love you too, darling girl. I’m so glad I found you, even though we had to come through blood and fire first.” He kisses her forehead and slides off to her side, drawing her into his arms.

“Is it…is it okay that I called you Daddy?” she asks hesitantly.

Peter chuckles. “More than okay, princess. I’d be pleased and proud to be your daddy.”

“Daddy Alpha,” she says with a smirk, and wriggles back against him. “Mine now.”

She can feel the curve of his smile against the back of her head. “Yours, always.”


End file.
